


Until Dawn Drabbles

by nandonman



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, WIP, Washingroe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandonman/pseuds/nandonman
Summary: Just some little blurbs about our favorite group of YAs. Some short, some long. Feel free to suggest pairings or scenarios and whatnot. Enjoy!<3
Relationships: Mike Munroe/Josh Washington, Sam Giddings/Jessica Riley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Unusual (Mike/Josh)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for Washingroe

"Is something wrong?"

Mike pulled his hand back from Josh's neck and searched his friend's--is that what they were still?--eyes.

Josh swallowed and shook his head. "No, no, it's just . . . The way you're looking at me."

Mike furrowed his brows. Looking at him like what?

The two were currently sitting together on Josh's couch, PS4 controllers forgotten on the coffee table as they held each other close.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. But the last time, they were both fairly tipsy. Now, there was no alcohol to place the blame on. No excuses for the way they'd started to drift towards each other when talking about the physics of rocket jumping. Nothing to explain why their conversation died off, or why they ended up staring into each other's eyes. And certainly nothing made Mike duck to catch Josh's lips in his own.

"Uh . . . You're gonna have to clarify."

Even as Mike spoke, he felt his eyes drift to Josh's own, big and so intense, with long eyelashes surrounding them. And the way his nose jutted out just a bit . . . And his lips were sloped just perfectly to fit against his own.

Josh interrupted his thoughts with a half-smirk half-stare.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

Josh rolled his eyes, "Looking at me like . . . Like I'm . . . Well, like you're actually happy, around me."

Mike raised his eyebrows. "Yeah," he said slowly. "That's usually true for someone who kisses you."

Josh moved his head to the side, avoiding Mike's gaze now.

"Ok smartass. I'm just not used to your whole--enamored lover shebang going on. It's . . . unusual."

Mike hesitated. "Not bad, though? Cause if it is, I can stop--"

Josh's hand suddenly reached for the drawstring of Mike's jacket, and he pulled at the material.

"No way Ike."

"Don't--call me Ike."

"What?" Josh's lips turned up into that gummy smile of his.

"Does Ike not 'like'?"

Mike scoffed and shifted his weight, arm resting back against the couch. "Dude, stop. You're ruining this."

"And what is this exactly?"

Mike paused. Josh looked at him behind a veil of indifference, but Mike could see the curiosity hidden underneath.

"No offense," Josh started, "but you don't really strike me as the type to swing this way. You're more like. a hammer that swings the same way, over and over, and _wow_ , you really get around don't you?"

Mike blinked at him. "You done yet?"

Josh smiled, head titled back and lidded eyes cast down toward Mike. A lazy smile--signature Joshua.

"Almost. I just wanna make sure you're not just pulling my leg or having some weird identity crisis. I mean, I'm cool with talking you through it if you are, but i don't really want to be a test dummy, y'know what I mean?"

Mike shook his head. "Nah, look, just don't think about it. I'm trying not to."

Josh frowned. "But what if--"

"Josh. The best thing you can do right now if you want me to kiss you is to let me kiss you. Period."

Josh swallowed and paused. A moment passed, then he moved closer, his face mere inches from Mike's. His eyes flickered down to the other's lips.

"Period."

And then they were both leaning forward, lips connecting together like magnets. Mike took a moment to appreciate Josh's square jaw and wide lips--so different from that of a girl and yet so perfect.

Meanwhile Josh had given up on trying to wrap his head around the fact that Mike Munroe--former class president and resident _straight fuck boy_ was macking on a dude--Josh, of all people--like a fucking ice cream cone. Instead, his mind had filled with only the sensation of Mike's slight stubble grazing against his clean shaven skin, and the feel of Mike's strong hands slipping past Josh's arms to hold his waist.

it wasn't long before Josh was parting his lips to let the other's tongue explore. He sighed at the sensation and pulled Mike closer on the couch, suddenly hyper aware of his appearance.

He managed to untangle a hand from between the two of them and guide it through his hair, while he let his head tilt slightly to the side.

Josh didn't even realize his head had moved until Mike started kissing down his jaw and onto his neck.

Josh swallowed, and Mike mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "shit" before Josh felt a wet and vaguely painful sensation on his skin. He risked a glance down and saw the top of Mike's head beneath his chin, and Josh felt his cheeks heat up.

"Mike."

His voice came out scratchy, not unusual for him but suddenly so monumental in the face of his crush leaving hickeys down his neck.

Mike pulled away, kissing the mark he'd just made before moving back up to Josh, looking into his eyes.

"Yeah?"

Josh hesitated. An uncomfortable silence hung over them until Josh finally spoke again.

". . . Why are you doing this?"

Mike stopped himself from frowning too blatantly at the question, and Josh watched him expectantly as he tried to come up with a response.

Eventually, Mike got up--just long enough to reposition his right leg to be bent under his left. His elbow rested against the top of the couch as he held his head and faced Josh.

"I think it's pretty obvious why."

Josh blinked. "Hold on, you're seeing something I'm not. I mean, we're polar opposites dude. You act like you don't care but underneath all that macho man shit you're just made of kittens and googly eyes, while I act like an asshole and I'm really just--an asshole. It just doesn't make sense."

Mike puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.

"I mean . . . What doesn't? Seems to make sense to me. One big softie meets a genuine guy like yourself. You happen to be cute. Hot, even. You know. 2 plus 2."

Josh shook his head. "Nah man, I mean, I'm an _asshole._ Grade A, 100% bred and fed douchebag. I mean--why would you look at me like that anyway?"

Mike stared at him.

"You keep talking about that. What do you mean?"

Josh shook his head and looked away, his eyes distant.

Something was going on in his head, and Mike wanted to know what.

Fine. If it was going to be like that, then Mike had one card up his sleeve. A guessing game.

"Is it that I'm kinda getting turned on? You ever been with a guy before?"

Josh scoffed, and Mike smiled as he met his gaze again.

" _You_ shouldn't be the one asking _me_ that."

"No? Well, then how about it? What's the deal here?"

Josh seemed hesitant to answer.

". . . Look, just forget I said anything. We've got a game to finish."

Josh turned his attention back to the screen, but Mike put a hand on his shoulder and chased after his gaze.

"Josh."

Josh looked at him quietly, his expression growing . . . deeper, slowly emerging from the veil.

"t's just that . . . You look at me like I'm," he pursed his lips and looked around awkwardly. "Like I'm a fucking puppy or something. Something valuable. Something that . . . you care about."

. . .

"Josh," Mike started again, "Have you ever actually considered that maybe I do care about you?"

Josh rolled his eyes for the second time that night. "Well, duh. You're a nice dude and everything."

"No that's not what I meant."

Mike sat forward, hand still on Josh's shoulder as he faced him once again.

"I mean that. I care about you, man. And I sort of happen to find you crazy hot, too. Literally."

Josh's eyes widened slightly, and there was only a moment's pause before Josh let out a shaky laugh.

"You're . . . God. Michael Munroe, smooth sailor, tying up in my dock. You've got me, captain. Hook, line, and sinker."

"Mm. Do I?"

Mike slowly turned Josh by his shoulder, eyes flickering down to his lips once again.

"Do I have you, Joshua?"

Josh swallowed. And there it was again--Mike's eyes flying down to watch his adam's apple.

Josh couldn't help what happened next. While Mike was busy admiring a very stunned Josh, the latter decided on a course of action that he could definitely end up regretting. Josh suddenly turned back against the couch, taking Mike by the waist and pushing him down against the couch. Mike's head landed on the arm of the sofa, and his eyes widened slightly as Josh dived down for the ~~kill~~ kiss.

Mike sighed in content as the beautiful man folded his arms around him and kissed him passionately. It was only a minute or two later that Josh finally pulled away and whispered against his skin.

"Yes."


	2. Explanation Pt. 1 (Sam/Jess)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I can't just Not Write Something Cheesy. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. I'm so soft for this ship <3

Jess considered herself to be a busy woman. She liked to keep occupied--whether that be with school, work, partying, socializing, whatever. And so it was very rare that she had a moment to stop, to think it all through.

That's why it was strange when Sam found her at an upstairs window, the cool night breeze blowing her long blond hair from her cheeks, the distant sounds of the party downstairs nothing but sounds under a blanket to them.

"Jess?"

Jessica turned, a little startled to see her friend appear behind her.

"Oh! God, Sam, don't _do_ that."

"Sorry--I didn't mean to scare you." Sam glanced at the window and smiled. "Mind if I join you?"

The other blond hesitated before scooting to make room for Sam on the window seat. "No--no, go ahead."

And so Sam slid down onto the cushion, one leg tucked under the other as she faced Jess from the other side of the bench.

"So. Don't take this the wrong way but i kind of had you pegged as the party-going type. What brings you up here, Ms. Lonesome?"

Jess didn't really know how to answer that.

"Well. Honestly I was just looking for some fresh air."

Sam frowned. "Why not just go outside then?"

"And be caught in a sea of drunk couples? Yeah, that'd be totally relaxing."

Sam nodded. "Point taken."

There was a moment of silence then, as the two retreated into their own thoughts. The light in the room was dim; must have lost a light bulb or two. Air streamed in from outside, along with voices from the porch below, masked in bass-boosted music and the vague sounds of doors opening and shutting closed.

It wasn't too long before Jess spoke again.

". . . Y'know, actually, I've had something on my mind that I just can't stop thinking about."

Sam turned to her, tearing her gaze away from the night sky. "Is something bothering you?"

Jess bit her lip. It was going to sound ridiculously pathetic, but if anyone would listen to her, it would be Sam.

"I just . . . It's about Mike."

"Mike?"

Sam furrowed her brows and leaned forward a bit as Jessica continued.

"Yeah. Him and I've been talking a lot lately, and. Well. I think he might like me."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "What?? Jess, that's great!"

Jess nodded, but Sam caught on that something wasn't right.

"I mean . . . right?"

Jess looked at her, her eyes nervously flicking down to the bench.

"Yeah, no, it's great. Awesome." She paused before sighing and looking up at the ceiling with a sad smile. "God. You know, I used to thirst after him pretty bad."

"Big surprise there."

"Hey!" Jess kicked Sam's leg, who in return just laughed and apologized shortly.

"--I mean, so it's really great and all that he's interested. And at first, I was really excited. Michael wants to get to know me, finally. But . . ."

She took a breath. "I just don't know anymore. Don't get me wrong, he's cute and all, but I feel like . . . something's just missing."

Sam was quiet for a moment, and Jess found herself looking up nervously at her friend. Sam was always the one for these kinds of things--getting in touch with yourself, handling conflict. She was honestly probably the most mature out of the friend group. And so Jess really valued her opinion. She knew she could trust her to give her her best advice--Sam always did. She cared.

"Do this for me." Sam leaned back against the wall of the small alcove and closed her eyes. "Close your eyes. No, really. Close em. Good. Now--imagine you just arrived at a party--an actually _fun_ one. It's dark out, the crickets are chirping, and you can hear the music coming from inside. Now imagine you walk up to the door and someone stops you. You look, and it's Mike. He's holding your shoulder and looking down at you with a smile."

Jess did as she said, and she felt that same uncertain feeling weighing heavily in her chest.

"Hey Jessica," Sam imitated in a shitty baritone.

"Oh my god, Sam, no--"

"Don't open them! Keep your eyes closed, and just roll with it."

Jess hesitated before complying, trying to get herself to relax despite Sam's horrible impression of Mike.

"Hey, Jessica," Sam tried again. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jess took a breath. ". . . Yes, Mike?"

"Okay now imagine he pulls you aside, to the railing. He starts to say something, but he seems to get lost in your eyes. He leans forward."

Jess swallowed and tried to focus on the scene Sam was depicting. But even as she started to pull the pieces together, something happened. Instead of Mike in front of her, she saw . . . Sam. Leaning forward, looking at her with a kind gaze, uncertain but daring, willing--

Jess's eyes flew open and she cleared her throat.

Sam opened her own eyes and studied Jess's face.

". . . Nothing, huh?"

Jess bit the inside of her cheek. ". . . Yeah. Nothing."

Sam pursed her lips together before exhaling in defeat. Jess fell quiet again, and Sam repositioned herself so she was holding her knees in front of her. The latter turned her attention back to the stars, and was quiet only for a moment before speaking again.

"I think I see Orion."

Jess tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "The constellation?"

"No, the aircraft. Yes, the constellation. Right there."

Sam tapped her finger against the glass, and Jess leaned forward to try to see what she was talking about.

"Do you see it?"

It took a second, but eventually Jess's eyes landed on a vague pattern of stars in that familiar hunter formation.

"I see it."

Sam smiled, and her eyes met Jess's for just a moment before slipping back to the outside.

"You know the story behind it, right?"

Jess paused. Her mother had told her once, a long time ago. It was sort of a blur.

"Uhh I think? He's Artemis's tragic love right? He died, and she made him into the stars."

Sam nodded. "That's one story. A good love story at least."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Are there other versions?"

"Just one." Sam kept her eyes trained on the sky. "Some say Artemis killed him for wanting to hunt all the beasts of the world. She sent a scorpion after him, then imprisoned them both in the stars, to continue their chase for eternity. That's why when Orion sets, Scorpius rises."

". . . Oh. Well that's definitely less romantic."

Sam chuckled and looked back to Jess. "Yeah but honestly? It beats her brother getting jealous over her. That's kind of creepy."

Jess grimaced. She had a point there.

"Well that's sad then. Artemis never even got Orion then--her supposed 'one love.' I mean, how lonely can a girl get?"

Sam shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Now see that's where we're wrong. Artemis wasn't just a protector of virgins. She protected all the girls who didn't want to be with men."

It took Jess a moment to catch onto what she was saying, but when she did, her eyes widened.

"Oh, you mean like lesbians?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, like lesbians. In fact, I'd bet Artemis herself had more . . . relationships than she'd let on."

it made sense. Jess thought about it, and she found herself wondering what it would be like--being under Artemis's wing, being protected despite the cruel world back then. Even now. She must have been so strong, and nurturing, to fight for people so disadvantaged and ignored . . . Kind of like . . . Sam.

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

A wistful look entered Sam's eyes.

"Yeah. She does."

Another moment of silence passed between them, and Jess glanced at her phone to see it was 12:02. She put it down and sighed, closing her eyes and furrowing her brows in frustration. What was she going to do about Mike? Was she actually interested still? Or was she just leading him on?

Another minute went by, and she felt Sam's socked foot brush against her leg.

"Hey. It's ok, Jess. Really. Whatever happens, you've just gotta . . . let it happen. Listen to your heart, and be honest with yourself."

Jess met Sam's gaze and thought on her words.

_Listen to my heart . . ._

Jess moved her hand to rub her neck, then let it fall just slightly to cover her heart. She could feel it beating, and as she focused on it, she saw something change in Sam's eyes. Or maybe it was had always been there, and she just hadn't noticed. There was . . . that ever present care. The inquisitive empathy Sam saw the world with, being focused on her--on Jess. And she thought, just for a moment, she saw . . . something else.

"Sam . . ."

Sam never broke their gaze.

"Yes?"

Jess rubbed her fingers against her palm, nervousness creeping up her as she felt a sudden impulse enter her mind. Before she could second guess herself, Jess abandoned her spot against the alcove wall and instead crawled forward, reaching past Sam's waist to stoop forward and place a kiss on her lips.

Sam's eyes widened even as Jess pulled away, blushing and suddenly dizzy with emotion.

"Wh--I . . . Jess, I don't . . ."

"Thank you."

Sam looked in her eyes, and Jess felt her heart stop at the sight of the longing in Sam's gaze. But eventually Sam cleared her throat and looked away.

"Of course. Anytime, hon."

Jess smiled at the nickname, but she felt something wrong. The situation was changing, something falling from her grasp. She watched Sam's face carefully before it hit her--Sam thought she meant the kiss in some sweet, girl-friend kind of way, the way risque friends said goodbye in front of their adoring men. But that . . . That wasn't what she meant. Was it? It didn't feel right. So just what the hell did she mean to do?

Sam seemed slightly uncomfortable now, glancing up at Jess with a look that said 'what's happening here?'

Jess remembered where she was. Hovering over her friend on all fours, hands on either side of the other blond, hair falling slightly towards Sam's pale skin.

And suddenly, she made her choice.

Jess managed to find Sam's gaze again before looking between her eyes and her lips--light pink, but glossy. Sam always did like it natural. Except now, she just looked so . . . inviting.

With one last breath, Jess swooped forward again, this time pleasantly surprised as Sam met her halfway. Their lips met in a wonderful crash, and Jess heard Sam inhale even as Jess found herself moving closer to Sam, until their bodies met.

Jess blushed deeply at the feel of Sam's chest grazing against her own, and she tilted her head slightly, working away at the cherry-flavored gloss on Sam's thin lips.

Sam made a soft sound and put a hand around Jess's neck, moving it up into her hair. Jess couldn't help but melt into Sam's hold--so delicate and yet firm. She found herself licking at Sam's bottom lip, and before she knew it, she was inside--exploring Sam's mouth with her tongue. She blushed deeper and recalled, funnily enough, something she'd read in a book of hers a few years ago. She never thought she'd be so curious to try it out.

Tentatively, Jess sat back on Sam's now outstretched legs and lifted her hands. With her left, she gently gripped Sam's waist, marveling at the feeling of her curves underneath her palm. Her other hand moved up, where it rested against Sam's shoulder and slowly moved down her chest.

Sam was in absolute bliss. She never imagined, not in all the years she'd known her, that she would get the chance to make out with Jessica Riley. Jessica, who'd she'd admired from the sidelines, silently falling for her smart mouth and playful grin. She was absolutely breathtaking on any day, but seeing her like this--feeling her like this, practically purring into her mouth while sneaking her hands lower down her body-- _God._

_This is it. I'm in heaven._

Sam managed to pull away as Jess's hand reached the curve of her chest.

"Oh--Am I not--sorry," Jess began, but Sam shushed her with a quick kiss.

"Don't worry. I'm just making things a bit easier for you."

Jessica raised an eyebrow, but her questions were answered as Sam smiled, reaching her arms around her waist and pulling her shirt over her head.

Jess couldn't help but stare. Sam was now in just a tank and jeans, the low cut top revealing . . . more than she'd seen before.

"Sam," Jess started. But then Sam's hands were on her hips, and she met Jess's bashful gaze with a warm smile.

"Let's just see where things go. Sound good to you?"

Jess blinked.

"Ohmygod, _yes_."

Jess leaned forward again, lips attaching to Sam's neck as her left hand slipped past the fabric of her tank top. She felt the lace of Sam's bra underneath her palm, and she cupped her hand around it, squeezing, hearing Sam's breath catch in her throat.

Sam whispered encouragement to her, and Jess held Sam close, exploring the soft skin along her neck and the feel of her chest in her palms.

And for the first time in a very long time, Jess found there was only one thing on her mind.

Sam Giddings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for part 2! (Washingroe)


	3. Explanation Pt. 2 (Mike/Josh)

"I just really like the classics, ya know?"

The girl beside Mike smirked, and he swore he saw her flutter her eyes at him. _God._

"Well sounds like you know your cinema."

Mike took another drink out of his plastic cup, hoping to whatever deity was out there that this girl would just walk away.

"What can I say?" She sighed, moving her hair away from her chest. "I'm just that good."

Mike's eyes flickered from her face to her very exposed chest, to the other people moving about the house. Normally, he'd give it a go--why not? It was a party after all. But for some reason, everything just seemed . . . too much.

"Sorry," Mike mumbled as he pulled away from the nameless woman. "I need a drink."

The kitchen was crowded, as one could expect. The booze was placed on the long granite countertop separating the kitchen from the living room, and there were at least a dozen people crowded around it.

Regardless, Mike somehow made his way past the drunken college students and to the counter, where he helpfully refilled his then empty cup.

With a deep sigh, Mike turned against the counter and took a drink.

_C'mon Mikey. What's wrong with you tonight? Where's your game?_

For the life of him, he couldn't place where any of this unsurety came from. Was he tired? Maybe he hadn't drank enough?

Mike closed his eyes, and took a breath. Around him he could hear dozens of voices shouting over each other as someone's shitty Spotify playlist played through speakers mounted on the walls. He frowned at the feeling of something cool on his sleeve, and his eyes shot open to reveal a tipsy looking dude laughing at something his friend said, his drink dripping onto Mike's arm.

"Hey, what the fuck man!"

Mike tugged his arm away and looked around for any sign of napkins. Beside him, the guy turned and squinted before noticing what had happened.

"Oh, sorry, dude. My bad."

He turned away then, going back to fraternizing with his buddies.

Mike rolled his eyes and decided then that senior class president Michael Munroe was _not_ going to be some drunk loser at some shitty party. No. Tonight, he was getting laid.

After locating the napkins by the sink, Mike made his way through the crowd to clean himself up. As he dried off his sleeve, Mike did a once over of the room.

Across from him were your typical party goers--stoners, loners, groups of frat boys and gossiping rings of girls. He spotted a few attractive women in the kitchen with him, but most of them were either with somebody else or looked like the type to kick him in the balls if he tried anything.

Mike was about to give up and rejoin Matt and Em in the living room, but he stopped in his tracks when his eyes scanned over the pantry doors.

In front of them was Josh Washington, pushed up against the wood and sucking face with some scrawny looking dude.

Mike's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of Josh, his friend, being held against rattling pantry doors and grinding up on a _dude._

Huh.

Apparently, Mike was staring because out of nowhere, Josh's eyes met his, lidded and adorned with a growing smirk. Mike was frozen in place. He felt caught--but doing what exactly?

Then his breath caught in his throat as Josh moved his lips to the stoner boy's neck, licking a long stripe before biting down, eyes still fixed on Mike. The latter felt something like shame dry his throat, and then Josh was tilting his head back, pulling the other man's hips to his own and mouthing something, his lidded eyes still trained on poor, innocent Mike.

With a surprising amount of effort, Mike ripped his gaze away and cleared his throat, walking blindly a few steps until he was back in the living room and far away from . . . whatever that was.

_Okay. Fuck. That was . . . incredibly weird._

The staring part--not the fact that Josh was getting it on with a dude. Mike had nothing against that, but he had to admit he was surprised. Josh had always been so obviously interested in women . . . but then again, people could swing both ways.

Mike's thoughts were interrupted at the sound of somebody's voice, shouting somehow even above everything else going on. He couldn't make out what was being said, but the stream of people making their way outside was a pretty good hint.

Curious, Mike followed the group to the door, but he scoffed when he saw what the fuss was about. It had started to rain, and many of the dudes and girls alike had started taking things off, dancing like drunken idiots in the street.

He rolled his eyes. This was turning out to be a really shitty party.

With a breath, Mike turned and made his way back through the now relatively clear house to the kitchen, where he'd left his drink at the sink.

Of course, it was gone. So Mike begrudgingly got a new soda cup and went back to the counter to refill it.

_Maybe I'll just have to settle for getting my booze on instead. Sorry, ladies._

Mike sat down at one of the now vacant stools and turned over some of the things that had been going through his head lately. He thought about work, and how with summer coming up, tips were about to get a hell of a lot better. Or worse. Depending on what the good citizens of Boulder were willing to give. He thought about Jess. What was going on between the two of them, exactly? Mike felt like there was something there, but whenever he'd try to act on it, Jess would find a way to laugh it off. Honestly he didn't know what she actually wanted, or what the hell he wanted either.

God, it was such a mess.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sudden presence of none other than Josh 'pothead' Washington settling himself down on the stool next to Mike.

He seemed perfectly chill, as if he wasn't just getting his dick wet only ten feet away. Josh took a red solo cup and looked to Mike.

"Want to fill me up?"

"What?" Mike blinked.

Oh. Beer. Right.

Mike took the cup from Josh and did as requested, all the while he felt Josh's wide eyed stare on his back.

"Here, man."

Mike passed it down and Josh nodded, tipping his cup to him. "Kudos."

He tilted his head back and took a swig before placing the cup down and exhaling deeply.

His eyes turned to face Mike, who was reminded of the way he'd stared at him before, the rest of him fully focused on the man pressing into him against the pantry doors.

"Uh. So. Killer party, right."

Josh deadpanned, then scoffed. "You're kidding, right? The music's shit, the beer's . . . well, the booze is fine, but hell. A little rain and everyone's freaking out."

"Amen to that."

Mike took another drink, shocked at how sober he still was considering his lifeline for the night.

Beside him, Josh rubbed his face, seemingly lost in thought about something.

Mike took a breath. ". . . So. You, uh . . . have a good time earlier?"

It took Josh a moment to snap out of it, but he smiled as his eyes met Mike's.

"You have no idea. Well--until the guy blue balled me."

"No."

"Yep. Apparently rain's just too fucking exciting."

Mike couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head in the process. "That's fucked up, man."

"Yeah. Pretty much."

They settled into a comfortable silence then, the music still blaring above them, now mixed with the distant sounds of shouting and laughing underneath the falling rain.

It was a minute or so before Mike spoke up again.

"I didn't realize you swung that way."

He spoke the words behind the rim of his solo cup, eyes fixed ahead of him. Josh shrugged beside him.

"Yeah. Both suit me just fine."

Mike nodded once more, putting his cup down and finding himself without anything else to say.

". . . Is something wrong with that?"

Josh's eyes were challenging, and Mike was quick to diffuse the tension.

"No, no, not at all. I'm just . . . surprised."

"Yeah well that's coming from the straightest guy I know."

Mike chuckled and shook his head lightly. "I don't know if I should feel offended or complimented."

"Neither," Josh supplied. "Unless . . ."

He leaned forward then, arm on the counter with a curious smirk.

"Could it be that our once-senior class president Michael Munroe is not as on the straight and narrow as he seems?"

Mike scoffed and went to take another drink. "You wish, man."

Josh studied him then for a moment before pulling back, biting his lip and glancing down at the table top in front of the other man. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Mike nearly choked on his beer and rather ungracefully spilled a bit of the brown liquid on the counter. He wiped at his mouth as Josh laughed beside him.

"You should see your face right now, Munroe." He slapped his back and pulled him close. "I wouldn't mess with your macho, dude, don't worry."

Then Josh leaned a little closer, whispering beside his ear.

"Unless you wanted me to."

Mike froze. He was painfully aware of how close Josh was, and even more so of what he was capable of doing. Despite himself, an image popped up in Mike's mind--the same situation as earlier, except this time _Mike_ was the one holding Josh against the doors.

Lamely, Mike lightly pushed Josh back and reached for some napkins. "Come on, man."

The glint in Josh's eyes seemed to dissipate, and Josh leaned back onto his own stool.

"Hey, dude, I'm just bustin' your balls. Don't worry about it."

He looked at him then, and Mike found it strangely hard to meet his gaze.

"We cool?"

Mike stared at Josh and tried to find the answer to his question.

_Of course we're cool, man. It's behind us._

That's what he meant to say.

Instead, Mike found the image from earlier back in his mind, this time bringing with it a small scene. Josh was in front of him, making those same damn faces from before, but for _him._ And then he was leaning against his neck, dragging his tongue lazily up the length of his skin until he got to nibbling on his ear.

_"Unless you wanted me to."_

Mike snapped out of the daydream by clearing his throat. He snuck a quick glance around them--only a few people remained in the house, but more were coming back inside.

He looked back to Josh, first meeting his eyes, then his own flickering towards Josh's lips.

Josh looked lost.

"C'mon, man, are we cool or no-"

Josh's eyes widened as Mike pulled him closer by his chin, kissing him square on the lips.

Mike let go only to place a hand on his shoulder and stare into his eyes. Josh blinked, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Just this once. And then . . . Then we go from there."

Mike must have imagined it, but he swore Josh _blushed._

"Uh. Yeah--yeah, sure." Josh managed to get ahold of himself and stood, abandoning his drink and spinning around in thought, eyes scanning the scene.

Eventually, Josh smirked and started walking, waving for Mike to follow.

_Sweet lord, what am I doing._

Mike walked with Josh past the pantry and through the hallway to the stairs. Josh glanced back at him and winked before making his way upstairs, Mike close behind.

Eventually, the two found an empty room--an office of some sort--and Mike was facing the door, hand on the lock and taking a deep breath.

Josh was behind him, scoping out the room as Mike locked the door.

"So," Mike began as he turned around. "How does this work?"

Josh rocked forward on his heels, his hands slipping into his pockets.

"Well."

He walked towards Mike, the soft beat of the distant music barely serving to cover up Mike's heartbeat that he shamefully realized was quite loud in his ears.

Josh stopped in front of him, their feet nearly touching, and leaned forward.

"I'd imagine it'd go something like this."

Mike's eyes flicked up to Josh as the latter's hand slipped out of its pocket and made its way around Mike's neck. Mike took in the sight of Josh Washington, the collar of his sweater up and reaching down to where it was zipped just below his collar bones. He blinked, and suddenly Josh's lips were on his own.

Mike took a breath as suddenly two realizations hit him: one, he was kissing a dude. And two--it felt _amazing_.

It was like he'd been transported back to his first kiss, the danger of it all, the unknown. He felt himself pull Josh close and hold him by his waist, marveling at the small curve of his hips. Vaguely, Mike noted that the sleeves of Josh's sweater shirt were slightly too long, the material brushing against his jaw as Josh closed any gap between them.

Mike's eyes fluttered open just a bit as Josh bit on his lower lip. He was surprised to see Josh meet his gaze, smirking against his lips with those lidded eyes.

"Fuck."

And then Mike was pushing Josh against the wall adjacent to them, hands roaming and mouth exploring past Josh's lips.

Josh let out a muffled sound of surprise before grinning into their kiss. He reached for Mike's jacket and pulled, unconsciously pushing his hips against his friend's. He was surprised to say the least when he felt his friend reciprocate the notion, grinding him against the wall.

Josh gasped when Mike pulled away, instead moving his lips down Josh's neck to the space above his collar bones.

Impatiently, Mike tugged at the zipper of the other man's shirt, but it only lowered another inch or so. Still, Josh tilted his head to look down at Mike, and the thick material slipped to the side. Mike took the opportunity to attach his lips to the skin there, his right hand slipping up beneath the black sweater.

Josh felt his breath pick up, and he watched as the man he'd been crushing on for years left mark after mark, his hands sure to leave evidence as well of the night.

Suddenly, Mike was kissing him again, and Josh couldn't take it anymore.

He reached forward and pushed off Mike's jacket, tugging his sleeves down blindly as their kiss grew more passionate. His hands reached down to the rim of Mike's shirt, and he pulled the soft cotton up, breaking their kiss only to toss it off and away.

Swiftly, Josh's hands moved to feel what he knew Mike was hiding under that shirt. He inhaled sharply through his nose and pushed Mike back, holding his sides as he moved to take in the sight.

"Mike . . ."

Mike watched him with a fond smile, too caught up in noticing Josh's habit of biting his lip to feel vain at being stared at.

Eventually, Josh's eyes flicked back up to meet Mike's, and a moment of understanding passed between them, rawer, more genuine than anything they'd shared before.

Because the hammering of Mike's heart, the almost embarrassing heat in his face, the sudden rush of adrenaline . . . It was all in Josh, too.

Mike blinked, long eyelashes fluttering open as he stared at his friend, disheveled and wearing the most taken expression.

And a thought occurred to him.

It felt . . .

Right.

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry for the cheesiness but :,) fluff times are good times


End file.
